


Pie

by YlvaUllsdotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack-ish, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Drabble, F/M, National Pie Day, Pie, Supernatural - Freeform, Tumblr Challenge, happy birthday dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 23:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13468434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: uhm... pie?





	Pie

**Author's Note:**

> @impalaimagining on Tumblr issued a challenge. Since I was already writing, I gave it a shot. I had to edit a whole bunch to whittle it down to under 500 words. I'm still not sorry.

I had snuck out at dark o’clock to get everything for Dean’s birthday breakfast, and sneaking back in from the garage, I made sure to close the kitchen door so Dean wouldn’t hear me. 

By the time my pie crust was in the tin, there was flour all over the kitchen. I tossed it into the oven and set the timer on my cell phone.

While the crust pre-baked, I threw myself into preparing the filling. Cutting the apples just so apparently also meant cutting up my fingers just so, and I swore quietly to myself.

When the timer went off, I dumped the filling into the pie tin and arranged a sort of lattice-looking top crust. Pie back in the oven, I set the timer again and grabbed a pan to start the custard.

Just then the kitchen door opened carefully and the egg I was about to crack into the pan ended up on the floor as I jumped to conceal what I was doing just in case it was Dean. Sam’s curious head quickly withdrew when I directed my best death-glare his way and the door closed again.

Returning my attention to the cooking, I mixed all the ingredients together, and mixed and mixed and mixed and … it wasn’t supposed to look like this, was it? Full of lumps and .. I think it curdled…

Pouring the failed custard down the sink, I blessed my own foresight at getting the ice cream. I heard Dean grumbling as he shuffled through the hallway to the showers as the timer went off that the pie was done. I pulled it out of the oven and set it to cool on the table. 

Just as Dean was grumbling about the kitchen door being closed and opening said door, I was throwing plates and coffee cups on the table. 

Dean stood in the open doorway and blinked at the devastation that was his kitchen. There were utensils everywhere, every surface appeared covered in flour, there was a suspicious smell coming from the sink and...was that a broken egg on the floor?!

His eyes fell on me, hair disheveled and covered in flour, butter smeared on my cheek, fingers covered in band-aids, a couple of forks and a package of ice cream in my hands. 

“Happy Birthday, Dean!”, I squeaked out. “I made you pie!”, proudly pointing to the still steaming pie in the middle of the table, and promptly losing my grip on the ice cream which fell to the floor with a loud thump.

Dean looked from me, to the mess, to the pie, his lips twitching into a smile, which widened to a grin and finally burst out into a full bodied laugh, bringing tears to his eyes.

“Yea, happy birthday to me”, he wheezed between bouts of laughter as he scooped me into his arms and planted a big sloppy kiss on my flour-covered lips.


End file.
